dripping gold
by ipsa dixit
Summary: a collection of unrelated drabbles that pop into my mind/14: after effects. it hit them all, 15: petunia wouldn't want to be a wizard, 16: narcissa will /not/ fall for lucius, 17: ginsy, 18: anxious at king's cross, 19: neville's side of the war, in haikus
1. freezing

_217 words, by google docs_

* * *

Charlie is freezing.

He spends day in and day out on the reserve, _surrounded_ by fire-breathing dragons, and he's _still_ cold. He's not sure how to make himself warm. He's been cold his entire life, so is there even a warm for him? If he doesn't know what warmth feels like, maybe this is it.

"Hey, Charlie," Alex, his coworker, says, giving him a smile and pulling him out of his thoughts.

 _No_ , Charlie decides, looking at Alex, _this isn't warmth_.

Because when Alex looks at Charlie, her smile has something in it. It's something that Charlie can't explain, but it's something.

When Charlie looks at Alex, he still feels cold.

"Hi," he tells her. They're in the changing room at the reserve, switching from their thick leather protective gear to normal clothes. They've been friends for years and it's no big thing to change in front of each other—everyone at the reserve is like a family—but Charlie always feels slightly uncomfortable changing in front of Alex.

Alex isn't subtle. Neither is any of their friends. It's pretty obvious: Charlie is Alex's soulmate.

"Anything interesting happen in your side of the reserve?" Alex asks. Charlie grins, because _yes_ , something interesting _did_ happen—two of the dragons got into a fight. It was intense and Charlie can feel himself smiling as he tells Alex. His thoughts are pulled away from the fact that he's never been warm.

He doesn't know if he'll ever be warm.

And that scares him.


	2. perfect soulmates

_216 words, by google docs_

* * *

It didn't make sense. Draco knows the way the world works. _Everybody_ knows the way the world works. Everybody in the world has a mark. Their soulmate has a matching mark.

At first, Draco tries to ignore it. He knows that he saw his matching mark, but he chalks it up to coincidence. Maybe he only saw it in the first place because he's been so desperate for a soulmate. He's been searching for his soulmate since he found out what a soulmate _was_.

Why is it, then, that he feels the need to keep such a close eye on them?

Draco looks around his dormitory quickly to make sure nobody is around. When he's sure that he was alone, he reaches into his bag and pulled it out. His soulmate.

He holds his soulmate up to compare their marks. There's no denying it: they have the same mark.

It's weird. Draco hasn't had a relationship like this before. Still, their marks _match_ so it must be meant to be!

Licking his lips Draco considers—maybe if they kiss Draco will understand? Maybe the sparks will fly and he'll get it: they're _meant to be_.

Taking a deep breath, Draco slowly presses his lips against his soulmate's, caressing them softly.

(They taste like a perfect green apple.)


	3. mean girls

_211 words by gdocs_

* * *

" _Albus_."

" _Scorpius._ "

"I think I just watched the most amazing movie ever. Nothing can beat this movie, I swear."

"If you don't close your mouth, you're going to catch flies."

"Shut up, Al. Watch this movie with me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because the _last_ movie you watch you said that it was the best. And it sucked."

" _Star Wars_ is a classic movie! You don't appreciate the good things in life."

"I appreciate _you_. Aw, are you _blushing_?"

"I am _not_! Besides, you just don't have the attention span for a movie, admit it."

"What, that movies are too long? Because they are. I don't want to sit still for 3 hours."

"You'll like this one."

"You have one quote to sell it to me."

"On Wednesdays we wear pink."

" _What_?"

"Oh, look, you're totally interested!"

"I am not. I don't—Scorpius, wipe that smirk off of your face!"

"Watch it."

"No."

"You hesitated! You know you want to!"

"I—"

"Come and sit down, Al."

" _Fine_."

"You'll love it. If you don't, you can… pinch me."

"I'll be keeping you to that."

"Be quiet, the movie is starting!"

"You're a nerd, you know that."

"Shhh!"

"Voice-overs? Those are so corny. You know I hate those."

"Trust. Me. Be quiet."

"I'm being quiet!"


	4. little dragon(s)

_450 words, by google docs_

* * *

Charlie is late for his date. That shouldn't be the first thought that pops into his brain, but it still is: Charlie is _late_. He was late before the egg started to hatch, having gotten caught up in his work, but he _had_ to stay for this.

There's sweat dripping down from his face. His hands feel like they're about to burn off despite his protective gear but there's a sense of euphoria he has. He can _do_ this. He's done it before.

The little blue egg shakes in his hands, the creature inside of it shaking and longing to get out. With another shake, the egg starts to break, a crack snaking down the middle of it. Charlie holds his breath.

It would be nice to have someone else here, but Charlie's not about to call for help. He's delivered worse dragons before by himself and he knows that everyone else is busy doing their own jobs. Besides, they didn't expect the dragon to hatch this early.

So Charlie squats there, his hands gripping onto the tiny dragon egg. His hands are shaking and he's thinking about how _late_ he is—he should've sent a patronus ahead of him.

He gives a loud exhale as another big piece of shell falls off and a little bronze head sticks out.

"Yes, it's okay," Charlie murmurs, holding onto the bit of shell that remains. More pieces fall off, into the fire and the dragon is almost free when the door opens. Charlie almost jumps, but he manages to keep hold of the egg.

"Who—?" Charlie asks, not bothering to turn around; he needs to keep an eye on his vipertooth.

"I thought you would be—sorry!" The voice is familiar and it takes all Charlie's willpower to not turn around.

"Draco," he says, recognising his boyfriend's voice.

"Hi, Love. I didn't realise you were in the middle of—" Draco pauses and Charlie is pretty sure that he's gesturing, even though Charlie can't see him. Charlie keeps his eyes fixed on the egg, watching the last piece fall away.

"What type is it?" Draco says, his voice much closer. Daring to take his eyes off now that the dragon is fully hatched, he turns his head to face Draco.

"Peruvian Vipertooth," he replies, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Draco's lips.

"So you have your own little dragon now?" Draco asks, nodding at the little bronze dragon, now bobbing its head up and down. Charlie withdraws his hands from the fire. He draws the dragon close, letting it hit his protective vest with its fire.

"No," Charlie says, looking back up at Draco. He leans and kisses Draco again. "I have _two_."

* * *

 _for:_

 _auction [peruvian vipertooth]_

 _pinata [chaco]_


	5. play with your food

_warning for torture_

 _for sonnet 130 (dark lady) and for unicorn day (notorious)_

 _376 words, by google docs_

* * *

Bellatrix's mother always told her not to play with her food. Fortunately, her mother is _dead_. She would be disgusted by her daughter—Bellatrix had become almost notorious for playing with her prey.

Dipping her knife slightly deeper, she repeated her question.

" _Where are the Longbottoms?_ " she hissed. She was getting slightly tired of repeating her question over and over again—wouldn't it be easier to just finish the job?—but she got a job from her master and she _was_ going to carry it out. Maybe her master was dead. He would live on in her servitude.

The body below Bellatrix shuddered. Could it even be called a body anymore? It was a lump of a man, flesh just _barely_ held together by sticky blood.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and pulled out her life. Really, didn't any of them understand that it would all be easier if they just _gave in_? Of course, they would die anyway, but at least their death would hurt less. Slightly less.

Bellatrix started at the feet, slowly digging her knife in and drawing a line, right from his big toe to his waist. Blood glinted on her silver knife. It stained his body, it stained her hands.

That was okay. She could wash it off. Blood flowed off well in water.

"Where are the Longbottoms?" she asked once again. She was getting tired of having to keep on having to ask, over and over again.

The lump of a human below her shuddered. Bellatrix could tell that he was close to death. She didn't have much time left, unfortunately. Brandishing her knife for probably what was the last time, she carved closer to his chest, almost digging to his sternum.

"Tell me where, scum," she hissed, not hesitating as she felt his heartbeat slowing down below her fingers.

"Mould—Mould-on-the-Wold," the prey stuttered, so close to death. Bellatrix squinted. Did this man really think that she would _heal_ him because he _finally_ told her? Did he think she would spare him?

Bellatrix never spared anyone.

Giving her knife a sharp tilt downward, she made her mark, right on his heart. Straightening up, she watched the blood pour out, spreading out around him, touching her boots.

It wasn't enough.

She still wanted more blood.


	6. choose one: birthday or deathday

_for unicorn day - nightmares_

 _for shakespeare day - dying on their birthday_

 _for auction - no 'the'_

 _1116 words, by google docs_

* * *

Aberforth would _not_ let them ruin Ariana's birthday. He knows that it's probably irrational for him to still insist on celebrating it, but maybe one day Ariana will remember who he is. Maybe she'll remember that he's her brother and he loves her and he hopes that she'll live another year. It doesn't make sense, celebrating her birthday, when she doesn't know what a birthday _is_. Aberforth doesn't even know why people celebrate birthdays, period. It all seems a bit ridiculous.

Still, he likes making a cake for her, spending hours slaving away, trying to make something so perfect. Something that she probably won't eat.

And Albus, every year, has complied.

Albus, every year, has joined him for their little birthday party for Ariana. She deserves it.

Albus, every year, probably never wanted to go, but always _did_.

And now Gellert exists. Aberforth isn't _stupid_. He knows that Albus probably won't even remember that it's Ariana's birthday, this morning.

Aberforth is going to hope that he does.

"What are you doing today?" he asks, trying to test Albus. They're both eating a quick breakfast. Later, when Albus inevitably leaves, Aberforth will bring some food to Ariana. She never comes out before eleven, latest. She once told Aberforth, in one of her normal stages, that sometimes she had nightmares and just couldn't sleep so she sleeps later. And then she exploded at him.

"Working on plans with Gellert," Albus replies. He sounds tired, as if he didn't get much sleep. Glancing at his brother, Aberforth can see a stack of papers in front of him. There's pages upon pages of notes sitting there and Aberforth is reminded of that Albus probably _didn't_ have much sleep last night. Of course.

He knew Albus' answer was probably going to be _something_ about Gellert, but Aberforth's heart sinks anyway.

"Have fun," he says bitterly. He doesn't know what their constant 'plans' are, but he's almost _certain_ that they aren't anything good. Since when has his brother been good?

Albus raises his eyebrows a tiny bit before collecting up his papers and standing up.

"I'd better be off," Albus says, nodding at Aberforth. Something in Aberforth wants him to tell Albus what _day_ it is, to make him stay, but he doesn't. There would be no point. Albus doesn't want to celebrate Ariana's birthday. Why should Aberforth make him?

When Albus leaves, Aberforth gets to work. He pulls out his wand, considering for a moment before putting it back away. It would be quicker to make it with magic but there's always a risk of being expelled.

Of course, Aberforth doesn't really _care_ about Hogwarts, but what if it makes Ariana stressed and something _happens_. He can't have those tensions arise.

He gets to work, taking care to measure out every bit of flour. He measures out sugar, too, and cracks two eggs and beats everything together. Aberforth has been collecting these ingredients slowly and storing them at their house. He doesn't even think Albus noticed.

After a couple of hours, it's finally ready. He takes it, gripping it hard, and makes his way to Ariana's bedroom. He thought that a cake would be a nice way for her to wake up.

And then a crash comes from outside.

All morning, Aberforth has been worried that _Albus and Gellert_ , their precious friendship, would ruin Ariana's birthday. If it becomes true…

He turns to start going out to them but someone grabs his arm. Turning, he sees Ariana standing there, her eyes wide. He can tell that she's close to having a meltdown by her grip.

Something in his stomach tells him that Albus wouldn't know if he was here. He can't have them make another big noise and cause her to go off—sometimes small things did that—but he can't leave her here alone; what if she has a meltdown and he can't calm her?

So Aberforth leads Ariana outside with him, to see Albus and Gellert standing there, brothers in arms, both grinning widely. He leaves Ariana before walking over to them, his chin up.

"Albus," he hisses, glaring at them. He doesn't _care_ if they finally worked out another genius thing that will change everyone's world. This is _Ariana's_ birthday and Aberforth, making a split-second, maybe rash, decision, will _not_ let them ruin it.

"You really should be getting back inside," Gellert says, not even giving Albus a chance to answer Aberforth. "This is between us, please." Aberforth squints at Gellert, trying to let him know that he is _not_ going to just listen to him because he said so. "You really shouldn't squint," Gellert tells him, giving him a dark look. "It's bad for your eyes. Just look at your brother."

Gellert smiles at his mention of Albus, but Albus doesn't return it. Instead, he places a single hand on Gellert's shoulder.

"Gellert," he says slowly, giving him a look before turning to Aberforth. Something feels like _triumph_ inside of Aberforth—maybe his brother _does_ have some of his old self locked away inside of him! "What do you want, Aberforth?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as if Aberforth is a naughty child who's making too much noise. _He's_ not making too much noise.

"You're going to set off Ari if you keep on being so loud," Aberforth tells them. There's a sour taste in his mouth as he glares at Gellert, specifically.

"We're working on more important things than your sister," Gellert shoots back, once again not letting Albus speak.

Albus opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, but Aberforth shoots back, "There isn't anything more important than her health." He's always hated Gellert. Maybe now he can finally say every thought that's been stirring in his brain. "Especially not your silly little games," he adds as an afterthought.

"Aberforth, they're not—" Albus says, before being cut off by Gellert pulling out his wand.

"You want to see my 'silly little games'? I can show you, no problem," he says, pointing his wand at Aberforth's head.

"Gellert, don't—" Albus says, sounding slightly desperate. Aberforth cuts him off, though, pulling out his wand too and directing it at Gellert.

"Show me," he challenges.

And his mind temporarily goes blank as Gellert shoots a spell at him.

He doesn't really remember anything but shouting and regaining himself to shoot some spell back at Gellert.

Aberforth doesn't know how long it's been before he finally stops and Albus is holding back Gellert and someone's lying down. Someone—

 _No._

" _Ari_!" Aberforth says, trying to shout loud enough to wake her up. Because that's what it is, right? She's just sleeping?

He can't shout loud enough to wake a dead person.


	7. all that glitters is not gold

_\- quotes - "all that glitters is not gold"_

 _auction - first word: until_

 _327 words, by google docs_

* * *

Until now, Dean didn't realise exactly how the sun hits the roof of Shell Cottage when it sets. There's something about the way the sun sets on Shell Cottage that shoots Dean through the heart. There's a gold tint on the roof of the house that makes it look pretty but Dean doesn't think it's beautiful. Not at all.

Even now when he doesn't have to be on the run he still thinks that everything around him is dark and gloomy. He hates that feeling. He wonders if it'll ever go away. He looks at Bill and he looks at Fleur and he thinks maybe it won't. They have a nice marriage. They have a _home_.

And yet, they still have constant reminders about the war. They're harboring _fugitives_. How can they ever escape from that?

And now Dean feels guilty because he's just part of the problem. As long as he's here, they can't be free and safe from the war. They're probably not safe, though. Dean knows that _none_ of them are safe. Especially his friends back at Hogwarts. Lavender. Pavarti. Neville. _Seamus_. His best friend.

How could he just leave them and try to come here and forget about the war?

And now Dean's wondering where his Gryffindor loyalty and bravery is. In the forest where he lost Ted Tonks, maybe. Shouldn't he be brave enough to go back to war, to stop just _thinking_ about it in this nice little house in the middle of nowhere? He's not going to be safe here, no matter _what_ he wishes. So shouldn't he be fighting, as long as he's going to die anyway.

Merlin, his friends probably can't even see sunsets like this anymore. He doesn't know what type of state they're in, but from what he's heard about what Hogwarts is like from Luna, they probably don't have much time for staring at golden sunsets on white houses.

Then again, maybe Dean is putting too much thought into the sunset. Maybe he should just appreciate the way the light hits the house.


	8. hell is empty

_willy shakes - hell is empty and all of the devils are here_

 _auction - transcendent_

 _308 words by gdocs_

* * *

Hermione is starting to wonder if the war will ever go away. She can't stop her heart from beating too fast when she sees a Ministry official _in the place where she works_. She never knows. What if one of them recognises her as Hermione Granger, the best friend of Harry Potter and an unregistered Muggle-born?

Of course, she tries to remind herself, they _do_ know that she's Hermione Granger. She has to remind herself that they're not going to send her to Azkaban for having magic. She has to remind herself that she _is_ a Ministry official and she wouldn't send _herself_ to Azkaban. She has to remind herself that those times are _over._

Still, her hands shakes when someone has curly black hair. Her wand is out when someone asks her a question that's _almost_ like an interrogation.

Her arm throbs when she takes a shower and her arm throbs when she walks into work and her arm throbs when she sees 'Muggle-born' written on someone's papers.

She still checks corners to make sure no one's waiting for her on the other side. She still grips her wand in her sleeves when she goes out to Muggle London—what if she stumbles across a Death Eater, hiding and waiting for her?

And she knows. Hermione _knows_ that she's being ridiculous. The war is over. Why can't she just _stop_ being in this mindset? Why can't she get herself to just _calm down_ and recognise that _no one is going to be coming after her anymore_? Why is her fear almost transcendent?

Some nights, she still wakes up screaming. Some nights, the nightmares don't stop and they keep coming and she wants everything to just _end_.

Some nights she wonders if hell is empty and all the demons are here, on Earth, walking around her, haunting her forever.


	9. too young

_auction - dom_

 _willy - though she be but little, she is fierce_

 _300, by gdocs_

* * *

"You're too young, Dom."

Dominique blinks, looking at Teddy. Teddy is cool. Teddy is chill. Teddy has _never_ told Domthat she was too _young_ to join him.

"What?" she asks, because she must've misheard. Teddy never just doesn't let her go with him; him and Victoire have _always_ let her tag along when they go to the Muggle village nearby. Besides, Dom wasn't 'too young'; she's already thirteen, which is basically fifteen, which is basically twenty, which is basically fifty, which is _far_ older than Teddy and Vic's ages _combined_. She was not _too young_.

Dom squints at him. Something is up between him and Vic, she just _knows_ it. It makes her stomach slightly squirm to think that they might be _together_ —Vic is her sister and Teddy is _practically_ her older brother. It's not like she doesn't want them to date anyone—they _are_ teenagers—but them _together?_

Dom is going to figure this out.

…

Dom wants to burn her eyes out. She can't _believe_ she was right. There was a chance, of course, that she was _very_ right. The hints were all there—Teddy and Vic have been spending more time _alone_ together and they both have seemed closer than before—but seeing her sister and Teddy _kissing_ wasn't her idea of a good afternoon.

She knows the truth now, though, and it makes her feel _powerful_. They obviously don't want anyone to know. If they were fine with other people knowing, then Teddy would've just _told_ her that him and Vic wanted to go out on a date.

She doesn't know what she should do with this information—maybe reveal it to her parents?—but she does know that the next time she wants something from either Vic or Teddy…

Also, she got to the Muggle village _easily._ She wasn't too young.


	10. the break up

_will shakes - "the course of true love never run smooth"_

 _auction break up alscor_

 _361 words, by gdocs_

* * *

"I'm breaking up with you. But it's not your fault. It's all on me, I promise. I just—i'm not sure if I really love you. And I want to love you, I just—"

Scorpius shakes his head. He's standing in front of his mirror, all by himself and it still sounds lame. He knows that he _has_ to do this. There was something at the start of their relationship that was _great_ but it fizzled out. Scorpius _needs_ to end their relationship.

He gives his head another shake and looks straight into his reflection's eyes.

"I'm breaking up with you."

Everything sounds lame. Lame, lame, lame. He can't think of _one_ good way to do this.

"This— _us_ —just doesn't seem to work anymore and I just can't go on—"

"Hey, Scorp."

At the sound of someone else's voice, Scorpius whirls around, knocking the tiny toothbrush holder off of their sink. Oh. It's him. This isn't how Scorpius wanted to break up.

There were some perks of dating his roommate, but this was definitely _not_ one of them.

"Hey, Al," Scorpius responds, giving him a smile. It's a real smile, too, because despite the fact that Scorpius _knows_ he doesn't love Albus, there's something about him that makes Scorpius want to smile. Maybe that's why he liked him in the first place. Liked—not loved.

"What were you talking about?" Albus asks, a little smile on his face, as if he _knows_ what Scorpius was saying and he just wants Scorpius to confirm that it's not true.

Because that's the problem.

That's always been the problem.

Scorpius _knows_ that Albus loves him. He knows that Albus will do _anything_ for him and he feels so guilty just leading him on—but he can't break Albus' heart, either.

Still. Scorpius knows one thing. His father taught him it, because his father grew up with arranged marriages and the prospect of a loveless marriage. Scorpius wants true love. Scorpius _deserves_ true love.

Albus? He's just not it.

"I'm breaking up with you," Scorpius says slowly. Albus' face falls and their relationship isn't the only thing that's being broken in that moment—

Scorpius can feel his heart shatter.


	11. in the sun

_this is supposed to be an albus/gellert from albus' side aha_

 _how do you poem._

 _willy - couplets_

 _auction - second person_

 _219 words, by gdocs_

* * *

it's a blessing somewhere out in the sun

because you and him can just have fun

and no one can judge you

just you and him in the dew.

his hair is a vibrant gold.

with him you're never cold.

you know, deep down, that it's wrong

and with another guy is not where you belong.

aberforth would scream

he'll pull apart at the seams.

and you know how it may seem

but you still lay and just daydream

because you're a coward and won't say what you feel

just pine after him. will you ever _deal_?

your father would go ballistic

he become downright sadistic.

he attacked people once, he'll do it again

he loves his children, no matter who he causes pain.

it'll probably be for 'the greater good', which almost seems ridiculous.

you're probably paying too much attention; you've always been meticulous.

still, you can't help but think about his hair.

sometimes his face makes you need more air.

because you've fallen for him hard, that's the truth

even though you're both some simple youth.

you stick with your plans just to look at him more;

by this point he's really just become a bore.

you know you shouldn't love him. of that, you're sure.

still, you can't help but thinking that he's too darn pure.


	12. supermarket flowers

_for auction, daphnesusan_

 _268 words, by gdocs_

* * *

The flowers died three weeks ago. Daphne doesn't have the heart to throw them away, so they stay on the windowsill, a petal falling down every once in a while. She has been coming to Susan's almost daily, but it feels useless; Susan doesn't want her company.

She can't help Susan.

"Suse?" Daphne asks one day. The pair of them are sitting in Susan's tiny apartment and Daphne can't help but continue to stare at the dead flowers.

"Hm?" Susan says, raising her eyebrows. She's sitting at the table, across from Daphne. Maybe, if it was before the war, they could've had something _normal_ , but at this moment, Daphne feels…

Well, she feels the same as Susan did— _empty_.

"Do you think, maybe—" Daphne's question dies in her throat before she even gets it out, because she doesn't know what she wants to say. She just wants to hear something; the silence of Susan's apartment is tearing her up inside. She _hates_ the silence; she spent too much time staying silent, and the war is over—she has no reason to stay silent, except for the fact that she has _nothing to say_. She hates that.

With a sigh, Daphne turns back to the flowers on Susan's windowsill. They used to be a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, but the petals have turned slightly brown and they're all wilted now.

They're like Susan, Daphne thinks. Susan, once upon a time, used to be so bright and pretty and now… now, Daphne remembers, turning her attention back to Susan, she's all wilted.

The feeling of uselessness settles onto Daphne once again.


	13. the feeling of flying

_383 words, by gdocs_

* * *

"Flying sounds stupid," Oliver says, walking into his dormitory. He slaps down the poster in front of Percy, his one and only roommate, with an eye roll. He's never actually flown before, but his father never thought very highly of it. Why should Oliver?

Percy looks over the poster with a snort.

"My older brothers _love_ Quidditch," he says, pushing it aside to look back at his work. "If you ask me, it sounds like a bunch of hoopla."

With a big sigh, Oliver flops down onto his bed.

"Do you want to just _ditch_?" he asks. Spending the entire day in their room sounds _loads_ better than going to a stupid flying lesson. Oliver is ninety percent sure that he'll hate it. Why bother?

" _No_ ," Percy says, his voice firm. Oliver hoists himself up.

"No?" Oliver says, one eyebrow raised. Didn't he just _say_ he didn't want to fly?

"I'm not going to _ditch a class_ , no matter how stupid. And I won't let you ditch, either!" Percy sends a glare at Oliver. Oliver groans and lies back down. He shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Now he's going to be _forced_ to go.

…

The brooms are lined up in perfect little rows and Oliver doesn't want to go to them. Unfortunately, he knows that Percy would tell on him if he ditches. Instead, he takes his spot next to them like everyone else.

"Now, children," the teacher is saying as Oliver tunes in, "put your hand over your broom and say 'up!'"

Oliver squints at the teacher. Isn't there an easier way to get the brooms off of the ground? Like, picking them up?

"Up!" Oliver says, anyway, rolling his eyes. The broom, right away, shoots up into his hand. He won't admit it—flying is _still_ stupid—but it feels _good_ to have it in his hand.

He mounts it with the rest of his class, and on the whistle, he kicks at the ground. He doesn't expect anything to happen, but suddenly he's in the air. Looking down, Oliver can see some other students still on the ground. He wills his broom to go a little higher and he feels _powerful_.

Okay, maybe he was wrong. Maybe flying isn't _quite_ so bad. He wills his broom higher.


	14. after effects

_for les_

 _219 words, by google docs_

* * *

There was a slight emptiness in Malfoy Manor. Narcissa knew that everyone felt it, but none of them seemed brave enough to mention it. None of them were Gryffindors.

No, they were all Slytherins. Slytherins didn't face their problems head on. Slytherins waited and watched and left their feelings for when they needed them.

The Malfoys had just fought in a war. They didn't need their feelings, not just yet. Besides, even if they wanted to show their feelings, the rest of the wizarding world wouldn't care.

Narcissa knew that they had a right to not care; her family had hurt other families. Still, she wanted to scream at everyone. She wanted to go to them and force them into her house and force them to listen to the screaming silence. She wanted them to feel her pain.

This war didn't just hurt their families. Narcissa's family was hurt. Narcissa's family could still feel that pain, the pain of the war.

After effects, Narcissa thought, didn't just hit the 'good side'.

Sitting with her family, Narcissa could almost feel the tangible after effects. It hit them, too. It broke them, as a family. They didn't have the same life everyone else did. They might have caused it, but it didn't mean they _relished_ in it.

Narcissa wanted to scream.


	15. not part of your world

_auction - little mermaid au, or the part where they don't get human items_

 _245 words, by google docs_

* * *

Petunia knows that she shouldn't be going into Lily's room. Still, Lily's out for the day and she can't resist. Making sure her parents are nearby, she creaks open the door to Lily's bedroom.

Perfect. Lily left all of her witchy things just laying around. Petunia can see what they all are for herself.

Slowly, she approaches Lily's desk. There are all sorts of things scattered out around it. For instance, there are a bunch of—feathers? She picks one up gingerly. Doesn't Lily know that random feathers can give diseases? They don't know where those birds have been. Sighing at Lily's foolishness, Petunia looks at the next thing.

It's a weird ball, with a soft powder inside of it. Petunia thinks she's heard Lily talk about this before—a fergasphere? She can't remember, but she picks it up gingerly. It turns red in her hand and she drops it on the ground with a little yell. That doesn't seem good.

After glancing behind her for a second to make sure she didn't alert her parents that she's in Lily's room, she looks at another object. She promises to herself that this'll be the last object she looks at.

It's some weird bowl, sitting on the floor. It's bigger than any bowl Petunia has ever seen and it almost makes her want to laugh at Lily. Wizards have to eat food out of a huge bowl?

Petunia would _not_ want to join that world, not one bit.


	16. (not) falling for him

_244 words, by google docs_

* * *

Narcissa makes one simple promise: she is _not_ going to fall in love.

She's going to keep it this time, too.

…

The thing about Narcissa is that she's a _Black_. It's not like she's going to just run away and not conform to her parent's view of the world. No, she's not _Andromeda_.

Narcissa is a pureblood and she's a Black and she's going to get married to Lucius Malfoy whether she wants to or not.

It's how arranged marriages _work_.

But the problem is Andromeda. The problem is that Andromeda _did_ run away and not conform to their parents' views. The problem is that Lucius was supposed to be Andromeda. The problem is that Lucius wasn't supposed to be _Narcissa's_. She already fell in love and now she has to marry someone else.

So this time, she's not going to fall in love.

She's going to marry him and make their families stronger, sure. But no love.

…

Lucius kisses her hand once and her heart melts.

She can feel herself breaking, but she knows that she must remain strong. She's just going to have her heart broken again.

But still.

A _hand kiss_. It's like Lucius is a prince or, at the very least, _she_ is a princess.

To be fair, she doesn't really _know_ Lucius.

Maybe she'll allow herself to fall. Just a little bit.

Just enough to quench that insatiable feeling that she felt when he kissed her hand.


	17. escaping

_this is so bad_

 _790 words, by google docs_

* * *

It wasn't supposed to happen. Pansy wasn't supposed to be stared down by Ginny Weasley and be fixed with a gaze that was so dark and so fiery. She wasn't supposed to be terrified to the core and she wasn't supposed to _want_ Ginny, to hunger for her.

It scared her, in all honesty. It scared her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, but there was just _something_ about Ginny that was impossible to shake.

Pansy laid awake thinking about it, but she still doesn't really know how, with one stare, Ginny wrapped her around a finger.

Ginny's finger.

...

 _It happened so fast. She knew that her parents that she grew up with weren't her real parents, sure, but she never expected to_ find _her real parents. She assumed that they were dead. Or worse._

 _Pansy definitely didn't expect her real parents to by royalty._

 _She almost got whiplash from the pace of her life changing. One moment she was happy at her home and the next she had royal guards knocking at her door, telling her that she was the legendary missing princess._

 _Pansy had grown up around stories of the princess who went missing at an early age and as a kid, she would use to pretend that was_ her, _along with her other friends. She never believed that..._

 _Of course, she was adopted; he parents found her abandoned as a baby. And it lined up too; the princess was lost around the same time she was found._

 _It was still hard to believe. It still gave her a headache._

...

"We should probably stop this."

"Probably."

Pansy hurried after Ginny. It was slightly surprising how hard it was to walk quickly in heels; people did it all the time. Ginny, of course, had normal, _comfortable_ shoes on, so she was able to walk ahead of Pansy, leaving her in the dust.

Ginny was always so _tough_ , so Pansy didn't want to seem weak, but she had to admit that she couldn't keep up.

"Stop, stop," Pansy said, stopping in her tracks. They were standing in a deserted hallway and Pansy looked around before pulling her shoes off and rubbing her heels.

"If I'm going to break you out of here, we can't _stop_."

Pansy looked Ginny up and down, from her messy ginger hair tied in a knot to her beat up sneakers. She was probably an idiot. A desperate idiot.

Still, Ginny had woven her words in a way that Pansy couldn't resist. She needed to get out of the castle. Ginny was her only ticket out.

"Let's go," she said, putting her shoes back on. Ginny smirked.

…

 _There was a servant there with red hair, but something about her seemed_ off _. Pansy wasn't sure how she knew that servant was different, but there was just something about her…_

 _So Pansy found herself spending more and more time with_ that _servant. The ginger._

 _Being a princess, it turned out, was exhausting. With that red headed servant, she felt almost normal. The truth was: she wanted her old, normal life back. It was so much more simple._

" _You want out," the servant said to her one day. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. It took Pansy by surprise—that servant hardly_ spoke _before—that she said the truth:_

" _Yes."_

 _It was a knee-jerk reaction, and Pansy regretted the one word as it came out of her mouth, but it was the truth._

" _I can get you out."_

…

They reached the end of the hallway and there was a window, wind blowing through it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow at Pansy. She nodded and Ginny smiled. This was it. It probably wasn't that easy, but freedom was on her lips.

And then Ginny's lips were on her lips, too. Shock was probably the reaction Ginny wanted, and it was probably written all over Pansy's face, because Ginny was smirking as she pulled away.

"See you on the other side, Princess," she said, jumping out of the window into the world below.

"That was weird," Pansy noted, looking into the void Ginny disappeared into.

Her lips still tingling, Pansy jumped too.

* * *

 _for:_

 _pinata [femslash]_

 _auction [ginnypansy]_

 _writing club [amber's attic - 21 (5 points bonus); showtime - my child; count your buttons - s3, p4; lyric alley - 32; lo's lowdown - adventure]_


	18. panic

_trigger warning for panic attacks/anxiety_

 _272 words, by google docs_

* * *

There was too many people around and I'm in the thick of it all. It makes no sense why this should happen now. This is my fourth year at Hogwarts. I've done _this_ three other times. When I was eleven, when I was twelve, and when I was thirteen. This year, something is different.

This year, being in the crowds of people seems suffocating. I told my parents not to follow me into Platform 9¾, but maybe I should've brought them through. I usually don't want my parents around when I reunite with my friends, but what I would give for them to be here now…

There's something pressing on my chest and it's getting hard to breathe. It's like all of the people here are stealing my oxygen from me but I _know_ that can't happen. My brain is being irrational, though.

Is this what a panic attack is? I've heard of them, but this can't be one. I've _never_ had a panic attack before, not even when I nearly failed the Care of Magical Creatures exam last year. It can't be one because _why now_?

I need to get out of the middle of these people. Maybe go on the train…?

No. The train, with its scarlet sides, seems even more suffocating. I want to go home. Maybe I'll just miss Hogwarts this year.

I can't go to Hogwarts if I can't _breathe_.

I feel like an idiot, but there are tears that come down my face anyway. Now people are going to think I'm a crybaby now. Why can't I just apparate there? This is too much.

 _Too much_.


	19. to fight a war

_207 words, by gdocs_

* * *

your face feels so sore

but you know you can't complain

people have it worse

.

seamus looks awful

his scars are much worse than yours

you should suck it up

.

there are plenty more

people who are doing bad

go and help them first

.

luna has been gone

ginny hasn't come back too

you feel so alone

.

sometimes you wonder

why you even fight this war

you are so tired

.

you are just a teen

you are not prepared for this

don't want to grow up

.

there's another cut

along the side of your face

you couldn't do it

.

hogwarts now is hell

carrows running all around

you want it to end

.

once this was a home

now it's nothing more than base

somewhere slightly safe

.

no sign of harry

you can't hold them together

you need him and fast

.

lightning needs to strike

lightning needs to save the day

lightning please come soon

.

you almost give up

ariana tells you no

you should come with her

.

you don't believe your

eyes because that can't be the

golden trio there

.

is this really time

are you gonna fight a war

better win it now


	20. you've got a friend in me

_auction - you've got a friend in me_

 _245 words, by google docs_

* * *

Theo's heart hurts. Theo's heart hurts because Blaise looks _empty_. He knows that it's after the war and he knows that they've both dealt with a lot, but it still frustrates him when he sees Blaise look empty like this.

He's supposed to be Blaise's boyfriend. He feels more like Blaise's useless friend.

There's something that's bothering Blaise. That's all Theo knows. Unfortunately, Blaise doesn't _tell_ him more.

Once upon a time, Blaise's detached state was cute. It made Theo fall for him – maybe Theo could get him to open up. Apparently, he can't get Blaise to open up. Not even to _him_.

What's even more frustrating is that when Blaise _knows_ Theo is watching, he has a façade. He pretends everything is okay. That really bugs Theo. Theo knows that Blaise isn't okay. None of them are.

"Blaise?" he asks, just trying to get Blaise to maybe look better. Maybe eat some dinner. Maybe do… anything.

"Yeah, Theo?"

Blaise smiles at him and Theo's heartstrings pull. Because the smile looks real, but Theo knows that it's _not_. Theo has worn a fake smile for ages; he knows what one looks like. Theo just sighs and smiles back a small smile. Small smiles. That's what they are now.

"I'm here for you," Theo says, "just so you know that."

"I know," Blaise says, reaching over and taking Theo's hand.

"I love you," Theo says, squeezing his hand. Blaise squeezes back.

"I love you too."


	21. bursting

_auction - minerva mcgonagall_

 _200 words, by google docs_

* * *

Minerva's chest hurt. There was something pounding in it that wasn't her heart. Or maybe it was her heart and her heart just wanted to escape. She wouldn't blame it. It was probably going through the same pain that _she_ was going through. If that was the case, then she wouldn't be surprised it wanted to escape. She wanted to escape too, from this awful pain.

Her chest seemed like it was going to _burst_.

She didn't remember much. She knew that Umbridge tried to take Hagrid. She was running out there to save him. She remembered there was red flashes. Stunning spells, maybe? Did she really get taken down by some _stunning spells_? She was stronger than that.

She wanted to say that she was fine and she needed to go back to work, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a small groan. Someone was at her side right away.

"Just try to relax," a voice said soothingly. Poppy. Minerva tried to sit up, but Poppy just pushed her back down softly.

Minerva wanted to protest, but she couldn't seem to make herself say the words. Her chest feels like it's about to burst.


	22. at the seams

_auction - poppy pomfrey_

 _couple appreciation - no characters under 50_

 _305 words, by google docs_

* * *

"Who's that?"

As soon as her doors open, Poppy is in Nurse Mode. She doesn't have any time to hesitate. She needs to act right away. There are _lives_ in her hands.

Her heart stops when she sees the body, though. Minerva. Her body is limp on the stretcher. She can't be –

No, she's _not_. But still.

Poppy shakes herself out of it, though; she needs to get to work.

She takes Minerva's pulse, which is, thankfully, still beating. She then checks her vitals, hurrying around the bed.

"What happened?" she asks, her voice a whisper. She doesn't even check to see who brought her in. That's not her concern. Her concern is that Minerva's heartbeat if slowing down and that _can't happen_.

"Four stunning spells to the heart," Poppy hears.

"Four stunning spells –" Poppy repeats. She focuses more on Minerva's heartbeat because she can't just _leave_.

Minerva has been working at Hogwarts for ages. Minerva has survived everything. She survived the Weasley twins, and the Marauders before that, and the Prewetts before that. She survived a war. She survived Albus' friendship. She can't be taken away.

Death can't take her yet, Poppy decides. It's not her time.

It's up to her to make sure that Death _doesn't_ take her.

What really scares Poppy, what scares her every time she ever needs to save someone's lives, is that maybe she can't do it. She's only lost a handful of patients in all of her years of being a Healer, but she's always scared that the next time she needs to save someone, she'll mess up.

She can't let those thoughts in, though. She tries to focus herself on _just_ Minerva. There's no room for doubt. She needs to save Minerva, not just for Minerva herself, but for Hogwarts. For the students.

 _For Poppy._


	23. baby sister

_auction - bellatrix and andromeda_

 _200 words, by google docs_

* * *

Bellatrix doesn't _want_ a little sister. Bellatrix is fine being her parents' only pride and joy. Bellatrix is going to scream if she has to share with someone else.

"Bellatrix," her father tells her. She's already frowning. "Do you want to meet your baby sister?"

 _No_ , Bellatrix says. She doesn't want to meet her baby sister. She wants to get rid of the thing in her mother's arms. _She's_ the Black daughter. Not her… _sister_. Even the word sounds bad.

But Bellatrix is a Black. She'd never say that out loud. Instead, she goes over to her parents and peers into her mother's arms.

There's a baby there. It's not earth-shattering. It's just… a baby. Something inside of Bellatrix stirs, though. The baby is so _small_. She expected it to be bigger.

"We're going to name her Andromeda," her mother says softly. Bellatrix shrugs and continues to look at her sister.

How is something so small supposed to protect itself? It's so tiny…

Bellatrix doesn't really like the idea of having to share her parents' love, but she knows one thing: she is going to _protect_ her sister. If her sister can't protect herself, Bellatrix will do it for her.


	24. can we start over

_auction - character goes back in time to their younger body with the knowledge of their older self_

 _216 words, by google docs_

* * *

Something feels weird. Something _in_ Draco feels weird. Maybe it's sleep paralysis? He's heard it can happen, but he doesn't really understand want it feels like.

Forcing his eyes open, he looks down and –

Well, that's not right.

He's in his bed. His _old_ bed. As in, the bed he slept in when he still lived in Malfoy Manor. Did he get drunk and go to his parent's house last night or…?

Draco turns on his side. If he's here, Harry's going to be with him too, right? There's no Harry.

Well, fine. He'll just sneak out the back door and go back home to Harry and his life. He's fine leaving this life behind.

Draco brings a hand up to run it through his hair but –

Why is his hair so stiff? His hair hasn't been this _stiff_ since he was in _Hogwarts_. He needs to look in the mirror.

Getting up, Draco realizes why he feels different. He's shorter. Once he gets to his bathroom, he looks in the mirror and –

No, that's not possible.

He's eleven. Or at least, he looks like his eleven-year-old self. This doesn't happen.

Or maybe it does. Maybe the universe is telling him that he needs to have a redo. Should he take this chance?


	25. perfect storms

_auction - sirius and reg cuddled when there were storms_

 _432 words, by google docs_

* * *

It was raining outside.

Except, it wasn't just _raining_. It was pouring and there was thunder and lightning, all very frightening. Regulus was quaking.

He was pretty that his parents were already asleep and he knew better than to wake them up for comfort. That meant Sirius was his only option for comfort. It was a good option, really; Sirius loved him. Taking his blanket off of his bed and wrapping it around himself, Regulus ventured out into the hallway and climbed the level of stairs to Sirius' room.

He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Figuring that Sirius just didn't hear him over the storm, Regulus turned the knob anyway.

"I didn't answer because I'm sleeping," Sirius said as Regulus entered. He was sitting straight up in his bed, poring over a book. The lights were still on.

"I couldn't sleep," Regulus said, looking up at his brother. Sirius raised a single eyebrow.

"Okay," he said noncommittally.

"I don't like the storm."

Sirius looked up and his face softened as he looked at Regulus.

"Come here," he said with a sigh. Regulus hoisted up his blanket and walked over to Sirius, climbing up onto his bed. Sirius took him in his arm, and Regulus could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

"It's just a storm," Sirius said, patting Regulus on the back.

Regulus just leaned in.

…

There was a storm happening in the dining room.

He didn't know what set her off this time, but his mother's screams pierced him through the heart and shook his bones. Regulus cautiously took a step out of his bedroom, hoping his mother didn't hear him. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Regulus climbed the stairs until he reached Sirius' bedroom. He knocked softly and the response was just as quiet.

"Come in."

Regulus turned the knob slowly, still trying to not make more noise. His mother was already annoyed at something. He didn't want to have her turn on him.

"What's the matter, Reg?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes when he saw that it was just Regulus at the door. He was sitting on his bed, reading a book.

"Does Mum ever–" Regulus started, hesitating. "Does Mum ever scare you?"

Sirius, whose face was hard and stony a moment ago, softens.

"Come here, Reg," he said, opening his arms. Regulus walked over, leaning into the hug thankfully. Sirius always seemed to give him the best hugs.

"She'll stop shouting soon, I promise," Sirius said, rubbing small circles into Regulus' back.

And, as Regulus squeezed Sirius, he believed him.


	26. rise from the ashes

_auction - dumbles and fawkes_

 _204 words, by google docs_

* * *

fawkes is always there

when he needs a good long chat

what a loyal friend

.

throughout all he is

always there right by his side

throughout thick and thin

.

the first time they met

it was like a brand new start

they both needed it

.

phoenixes are weird

the perfect thing for what he

needed to see then

.

he knew that moment

he could really start again

rise from the ashes

.

so he took him in

raised him like his very own

and adopted him

.

he was at a bad

point in his very long life

he felt very old

.

sometimes he did miss

his good old friend grindlewald

but not anymore

.

fawkes could help him through

and make him forget all that

start again anew

.

rise from the ashes

and begin a brand new start

leave his past behind

.

a phoenix really

is a beautiful creature

what it represents

.

now he really knows

that whatever mistakes he

makes he can come back

.

he can rise above

and just start over again

no matter how lost

.

this he learned from fawkes

that life is a big cycle

thank you very much


	27. voice like butter

_auction - blind!au_

 _328 words, by google docs_

* * *

For some reason, Remus' mother thinks that sending him to a support group will heal his vision. Nope. Remus is way past healing.

He goes to the support group anyway, because he knows that his mother blames herself for Remus blindness. Remus was blinded as a kid from playing with some of his mother's needles. She's felt bad ever since and has done _everything_ for Remus.

If this stupid support group will give her some sort of peace of mind, then Remus will go.

Still, going out in public isn't his most favorite activity. He hates it. He hates having to navigate everything.

His mother leads him in the room and lets him go with a hug and a pat on the shoulder. He makes his way to a chair, feeling around with his cane. By this point, he's pretty much used to it. He'll have to do this forever.

Making sure no one's sitting on it first, he takes a seat on one of the first chairs and waits.

After a bit, he hears someone walk closer to him.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice comes from above. The voice is pleasing. Remus _really_ likes it. It's like butter melting.

"No," Remus says, guessing. He wouldn't know if it _is_ taken, but he wants this person to sit next to him.

"I'm Sirius," the person says. A boy, judging by the tone.

"Remus," he replies, turning towards the direction of the voice and smiling.

"Oh," Sirius says, his tone changing. Remus cringes. "You're blind?"

"Yes," Remus says with a sigh. This is an old exchange – people always think he's 'less capable' or whatever. He's _not_.

"Good, then you won't have to look at my face," Sirius says, his tone switching back to his original tone.

"If your looks are like your voice, I wish I could see it," Remus tells him, smirking. Maybe Sirius would be a perk of this.

Maybe it won't be _so_ bad.


	28. airplane meetings

_auction and insane house comp - i got your bag at the airport and need to find you now_

 _352 words, by google docs_

* * *

Jet lag is already kicking in. Albus doesn't really want to have to go through the luggage check, but he waits for the little conveyer to bring his suitcase around. He's glad that the cute guy from his flight is also waiting at the same station — he's really cute and nice distraction as Albus waits. What a _good_ jawline. The guy looks antsy, tapping his foot and looking at his watch.

Finally Albus' suitcase comes around — the small black one with the green tag — and he grabs it, noticing that the Cute Plane Guy has the same type, but without the green tag.

"Good thing I have this tag, huh?" Albus says to him, gesturing with his suitcase. "Or else we might them mixed up."

The Cute Plane Guy looks at him furrowing his brows. Albus falters.

"Because, you know, they looks really similar. Both small and black," he continues. He knows he's probably making a fool of himself but he can't seem to turn off his mouth. "Are they the same type? What company is yours? It looks nice, I mean, but I just —"

"Yeah," the guys says, nodding. "I'm Scorpius, nice to meet you," he says with a small smile. "I have to go."

Albus can tell that Scorpius is _totally_ creeped out by him, but he thanks every god above that he'll never have to see him again. Besides, he got a name; that's good! Albus nods and starts to walk in the opposite direction than Scorpius. They crash into each other, and when Albus balances himself, he turns to apologise, but Scorpius is picking up a suitcase and heading away.

Understandable.

Albus turns to the other suitcase, which has sprung open. Some items are spread on the floor — a stack of cash, a bag of flour, a tube of toothpaste — and none of them are Albus'. Looking at the handle, he realises there's no green tag — he has Scorpius' suitcase. He swings around to see if he can still see Scorpius, but he's nowhere in sight.

Well. What to do now?


	29. a sticky meeting

_auction - susan_

 _306 words, by google docs_

* * *

Daphne is about to _scream_. No matter how hard she is trying, she can't seem to get this plant to do what she wants it to do. It's a simple assignment, really. Just repot it. And if she fails, her Herbology grade is going to fail too.

Facing the plant, she tries to grab it. Instead of letting her wrap her fingers around it, it grabs _her_ instead, wrapping its vines around her.

Just then, someone opens the door. Daphne struggles against her plant captor, to no avail.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she mutters, just _waiting_ for the person to see how bad of a Herbology fail she is. She can't even do a simple extra credit task! She struggles a bit, but the plant squeezes her and releases a goop all over her, _drenching_ her.

Great.

"Do you need help?" a voice says. Daphne shakes her head, trying to get the goop out of her eyes. She's face-to-face with a Hufflepuff girl.

"Does it _look_ like I need help?" Daphne asks, frowning. "I'm doing great."

The Hufflepuff walks over to her, letting out a tiny laugh. It doesn't sound mean, though — Daphne has _never_ heard of a Hufflepuff that could be _mean_.

She gives the plant a scratch and it realises Daphne, dropping her to the ground. She lands flat on her feet, wiping her face off.

"Thanks," she says, meaning it.

"No problem," the Hufflepuff says with a smile. "You just need to scratch it to get it to listen," she explains.

Daphne nods, even though that seems ridiculous. Okay, whatever.

"I'm Susan, by the way," the Hufflepuff adds, sticking out a hand. Daphne grasps it, before realising that her hands are still sticky with the plant's goop. The both share a laugh at their hands, now _both_ sticky.

"Daphne."


	30. just a dream

_auction - centaur!au_

 _264 words, by gdocs_

* * *

"Oh my God."

Harry only says it as a whisper, but he can hear his voice come out low and deep which scares the hell out of him; his voice is _not_ that low. His blinks and looks down again.

This isn't real, right? You can't _become_ a centaur. But, looking down, Harry can tell that he _is_ one. Those creatures he met in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid – well, he's one of them.

The horse body feels _weird_ on him; he's supposed to be a human. The hoofs feel heavy and it feels weird to have six limbs. That's not how a human should work.

Then again, Harry reminds himself, he's _not_ a human.

Harry shifts around. It's a difficulty to turn around in his new body, but he now faces the Forbidden Forest again. The centaurs – the _other_ centaurs – live in there. He should join them.

But would they even accept him? He's so different from them…

It has to be worth a try.

He starts his journey, trying to get used to using hooves instead of feet. He doesn't know if he'll ever get used to that feeling. There's something in the forest that makes a sound and, startling him, Harry starts to walk faster. He's almost at a trot now.

Suddenly, he trips over something that sends him falling, falling, falling to the ground…

Harry wakes up in his bed with a gasp. Look down, he can see that he has a human body. With a sigh of relief, he flops down to go back to sleep.


	31. glow-in-the-dark

_auction - "Remember when I said I support you in all your decisions? I'm excluding this one, this is a terrible idea."_

 _216 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Albus is the stupidest person Scorpius has ever met. Yes, he's really cute. Yes, he's really hot. Yes, Scorpius loves him.

But he's _so stupid_.

"Hey, Al," he says, almost running to keep up with Albus' brisk pace. "Remember when I said I support you in all your decisions? I'm excluding this one, this is a terrible idea."

Albus turns around for a brief second to grin at Scorpius, and then he turns around and continues walking.

The two of them are walking along the Quidditch field in the pitch black of the _middle of the night_ because Albus has thought of some great idea and woke up Scorpius to drag him along.

"We're going to get caught," Scorpius says, his stomach churning. He really wants to be prefect next year; if he's caught with Albus in the middle of the night on the Quidditch pitch, he's _definitely_ not going to make it.

"No, we're not," Albus says, stopping in front of the broom shed. He opens it and motions for Scorpius to stay as he goes inside. Scorpius waits outside, tapping his foot impatiently. Finally, Albus comes back out, holding two broomsticks and the Quaffle, which has something stuck to it.

"Glow-in-the-dark Quidditch," Albus says, tossing a broom to Scorpius.

They're going to get caught.


	32. hating romania

_auction - uncle and resolutions - outside of the uk_

 _217 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Sometimes, Charlie hates Romania.

Of course, he doesn't _really_ hate Romania. You could say that he hates the _location_ of Romania. He loves the place, he loves the dragons, he loves his friends, he loves the language, and he even loves his tiny one bedroom flat.

What he doesn't love, however, is the fact that his sister-in-law is giving birth in England, almost twenty-five _hundred_ kilometers away.

There's something in his stomach that feels weird as he cleans up at the reserve to prepare to go back to his flat.

He doesn't want kids himself, but Charlie has _always_ loved little kids. Maybe it's because he grew up with five younger siblings. Maybe it's because he likes _taking care_ of others. He doesn't really know.

But he's about to be an uncle, for the _first time ever_. This is huge. Except he can't actually _go_ to England because he's in the middle of a huge project at the reserve – they just got a new baby dragon and he needs to tend to it. He can't take off work.

If Romania was closer to England, that's be a different story – he could make a quick trip there – but Romania is twenty-five hundred kilometers away and he's going to miss becoming an Uncle.

Charlie hates Romania.


	33. so effing cute

_auction - suit_

 _218 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Albus Severus Potter looks so fucking cute.

That's really the only thought that Scorpius can think. He can't think of anything else because Albus Severus Potter himself is standing right in front of him and…

 _Damn_. He's so cute.

He's sorry, but it's true.

It's not like he didn't realize before now that Albus is fucking cute – Scorpius is dating him for a reason – but something is _different_ now.

Scorpius racks his brain and he thinks he knows why:

He's never seen Albus in a suit before.

It's a common thing that _everybody_ , no matter who you are, looks ten times better in a suit. It's why Scorpius loves wearing them himself – he allows his father to force him into one, but the truth is that he _loves_ wearing them. He loves _feeling good_.

Scorpius doesn't think he's ever seen Albus in a suit before. Albus is already cute, in _whatever_ he wears, and now he's standing in front of Scorpius in a full suit.

So Scorpius' mind is blank except for: _Albus Severus Potter looks so fucking cute_.

"What do you think?" Albus asks Scorpius, his tone unclear. He's biting his lip, looking unsure, so Scorpius presses a kiss to his lips, forcing him to stop biting it.

"You look…" _so fucking cute_ "amazing."


	34. scarfy

_auction - The scarf of sexual preference_

 _258 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Harry's back in the Great Hall. He's eleven again and he _knows_ this scene. He knows Snape sitting at the head table. He knows Dumbledore looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes. He knows Quirrell looking nervous. He knows McGonagall standing at the front and holding a scroll of parchment, reading from it.

He's at his sorting.

This is crazy. He's probably in a dream, right? Right?

"You will come up and be sorted by the Scarf of Sexual Preference," McGonagall is saying, standing up tall.

Wait.

That's not right.

Where's the Sorting Hat?

Harry shakes his head, trying to remind himself that he can't actually be resorted – this is a _dream_. He's not eleven. This'll be over again.

McGonagall calls up students one by one. Harry sees that Hermione is sorted into 'waiting until marriage'. He wonders what _he'll_ get. He's straight, right?

Finally his name is called. McGonagall drapes the scarf around his neck and Harry is just seeing that the scarf has a set of eyes which are slightly terrifying.

"Hmmmm," the scarf says, peering up at Harry.

"Let's just get this over with," Harry says, pleased that his voice actually works.

"I pronounce you Malfoysexual!" the scarf tells him. A shower of green and silver come down onto Harry.

"What?" Harry asks. What's 'Malfoysexual'?

"You have a deep crush on Draco Malfoy," the scarf explains. "You sit over there."

Harry turns to see a table with Ginny, Charlie, Astoria, Pansy, and… is that Blaise and Theo?

 _Fuck_.

How did it know?


	35. the cute uncle

_auction - charliescorpius and resolutions - crossgen_

 _264 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Scorpius is too excited for the Weasley family barbeque. He's been friends with Albus for years and he's excited to meet the rest of the family.

He and Albus tumble out of the Floo, Albus catching him. There's no one else around them at all; they had to come a little bit late since _someone_ took too long in bathroom. Okay, it was Scorpius, but still…

"Thanks," he says to Albus, brushing himself off.

"Come outside. Everyone else is probably there," Albus says, grabbing Scorpius' wrist.

Scorpius follows him, coming to a backyard full of redheads.

"There's a lot of people here," he murmurs to Albus. He can't count them all, but definitely over twenty people came to the barbeque.

"I don't even think this is everyone," Albus says, continuing to lead Scorpius through the crowd.

They wind up at the drinks table and Scorpius pours himself a drink of water. As he sips it, someone else arrives, walking through the gate.

Scorpius watches him and almost chokes on his water because…

 _Damn_.

The redhead who just arrived is really fit; muscles are visible under his thing t-shirt and he has _some_ stubble, but not too much. Just the perfect amount. His ginger hair is perfectly messy and he's just all around cute.

Scorpius wants to meet him.

He elbows Albus, who has turned around to talk to someone, and points the newcomer out.

"Who's that?" he asks, still looking him up at down.

"My Uncle Charlie," Albus responds, sounding like he's on the verge of laughter.

Uncle, huh? Scorpius can work around that.


	36. the bad princess

_auction - nearly headless nick and resolutions - give a ghost a backstory_

 _240 words, by gdocs_

* * *

"How did you die?"

The question, for him, is usually a simple answer. He was hit in the neck forty-five times. How could he have survived?

Of course, though, there _is_ a longer story. There's always a longer story…

…

The princess was coming to town. That was the big news in Nicholas' village. There was never any _other_ news, so something big like _the princess_ was circulated around and around until weeks after it actually happened.

And today was the day.

 _Screw the princess_ , Nicholas thought. Everyone thought that she was some sort of saint but Nicholas wasn't so enchanted by her pretty exterior. Yes, she was beautiful – even _he_ couldn't deny that – but she was also responsible for their small village being so poor; the royals had stopped buying any produce from the village, inspired by the princess saying their fruit was rotten.

Nicholas, however, remembered how it ruined his family's business; nobody else could afford the amount of produce they needed to sell. Now that Nicholas was a young man, he could actually go the parade the princess was in.

He waited in the streets for a glimpse all day, and by the time he could see the princess, he was feeling reckless from anger and tiredness.

So he spat at her feet.

Quick as a flash, guard seized him, but he didn't care. The princess was able to see that not _everybody_ worshiped her.


	37. nohomo

_auction - didn't know they were dating_

 _226 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Scorpius is not gay. Public service announcement! Scorpius is straight! He likes girls! And boobs! And... lady parts!

Albus Severus Potter is Scorpius' _best friend_. They are not, and will never be, boyfriends.

Because Scorpius. Is. Straight.

One thing Scorpius doesn't understand is this: why do people insist that they're dating? Why do people not allow two guys to be friends without making it sexual?

As far as he knows, Albus is straight too. Yes, sometimes they hug. So what? Albus gives Scorpius really good hugs. Like _really_ good.

And yes, sometimes they cuddle together. Sometimes it's cold outside, people! Human body warmth is one of the best types of warmth. If it's really cold, then _yeah_ Scorpius is going to cuddle with Albus to get warm. If they fall asleep in the same bed while cuddling, so what? It's warmer for them!

And they kiss! So what? Girls kiss each other all the time and guess what? It's completely platonic between them. Scorpius is slightly sick of people saying they're gay just because they're two guys who show their affection for each other. They kiss. Friends can kiss.

Maybe, _maybe_ , Scorpius sometimes has fantasies and thoughts about Albus, but the fact of the matter is: he's straight. He's not dating his best friend.

(Albus, on the other hand, has never thought that they _weren't_ dating)


	38. a sense of calm

_auction - the three broomsticks_

 _211 words, by gdocs_

* * *

This is it. It's James' _first date_ with Lily. His heart is beating fast and his hands are sweating, but as soon as he walks into the Three Broomsticks with Lily, he feels calmer.

If Hogwarts is a second home to him, then the Three Broomsticks is a third home. James has been there every Hogsmeade trip, without fail.

It's where him and Sirius and Peter realised that Remus was a werewolf. It's where they, hunched over stacks of paper, read up on how to be Animagi. It's where they celebrated with Remus when they survived their first full moon together.

It's where they snuck to after they made the Marauder's Map and figured out the best way to get there. It's where Remus, Peter, and James sulked in a corner, watching Sirius go on a date with Marlene. It's where Remus and Sirius had their very first date while James and Peter sulked together.

It's where James offhandedly asked out Lily for _one last time_ — _and she actually said yes._

It's where Sirius, just during their last Hogsmeade trip, brought him, mournfully saying that it'd be their late date ever.

So yeah. As James walks into the Three Broomsticks for his very first date with Lily, he feels calm.


	39. don't stop me now

_auction and insane house comp - don't stop me now_

 _207 words, by gdocs_

* * *

The first time Fred flew on a broom it was...

 _Exhilarating_.

There were no words to describe it. There was a swooping feeling in his stomach that felt like it was staying on the floor while the rest of his body flew up, higher and higher, into the sky, but once he got past that it was incredible. His hair was waving behind him, flapping in the wind, and his skin felt like it was being hit with hundreds of little jets of wind at the same time — which, thinking about it was probably actually happening.

At first, he was a little bit nervous about being so high of the ground — his feet hand nothing to stand on in the air — but he quickly learned that he didn't need to focus on that. All he needed to focus on was the broomstick he was sitting on and the clear, blue sky.

It was so beautiful.

Just the sky and him and the feeling of being able to do _anything_.

There's was something about Fred's first time flying that he couldn't explain. Still, he'd never forget it. There was nothing like it.

It was so disappointing when his mother told him to come back down.


	40. powerful potion

_auction - veritaserum_

 _202 words, by gdocs_

* * *

He knew the potion he had was wrong, but he couldn't help himself.

It was so easy to make. So easy that it almost pained him. All this fuss for such an easy potion? Why did people make such a big deal about it?

Severus passed the Veritaserum between his hands one last time before slipping it into his pocket. He could think of so many uses for it.

For starters, he could finally figure out where Potter and Co _go_ every month. Just one simple slip of the potion into any of their drinks and he'd have it all. The question always nagged at his brain.

But the potion could do more than that.

He could find out whether Lily liked him. It was a pretty pathetic use, but he wanted to know so badly. Or maybe he didn't want to know. Lily could probably never like him _like that_. Still, it was something.

He could also use it for other purposes, like finding out the questions to a test beforehand.

There was so much power in Severus' tiny, tiny flask. And the potion was so easy to make. All Veritaserum needed was a quick brew.

And now he feels powerful.


	41. the boy who lived, draco malfoy

_auction - role reversal_

 _208 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Scorpius is scared to go to Hogwarts. It's a silly fear, but he knows that everyone at Hogwarts will stare. Why wouldn't they? Even when he goes to Muggle London, he _still_ gets the random wizard passing by staring at him.

It's understandable, it really is; he looks _just_ like his father. It's like his father went through a copier and printed out a smaller version of himself. And his father is famous:

He's Draco Malfoy. The Boy-Who-Lived. Twice. The famous savior of the Wizarding World. Twice.

Plus, Scorpius is scared he'll be sorted into Slytherin. It's a silly thought, he knows. His father was a Gryffindor. So was his father's father. And his father's father's father. Of _course_ he's going to get sorted into Slytherin. And he also knows that there's nothing _wrong_ with Slytherin. But still. Something scared him about getting sorted into Slytherin. Maybe it shouldn't Maybe that's who he's supposed to be.

Then why does his stomach churn whenever he thinks about his sorting?

He's supposed to enjoy Hogwarts. His father and his best friends had the most amazing adventures there. They always had something fun and exciting.

He needs to stop getting in his own head about it. He's going to be _fine_.


	42. tomorrow

_auction - arabella figg_

 _211 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Arabella wakes up on her eleventh birthday with her heart beating fast. This is it. This is the day she'll finally get her Hogwarts letter. She's been counting down the days.

Sure, she's going to have other birthdays, but she's one hundred percent certain that this birthday will be the best birthday she'll ever have. Ever.

Nothing can beat going to Hogwarts.

She goes downstairs to breakfast, almost bouncing. She knows that her parents will probably tell her off, but honestly, Arabella couldn't care less. This is her special day. Nothing can ruin it.

She asks her mother if the mail came yet and can't help but be slightly disappointed when the answer is a no. Well, it'll come later in the day. Her mother also reminds her that Hogwarts letters don't always come on the actual birthday — sometimes they come over — but something inside of Arabella tells her that her Hogwarts letter will come _today_.

And then their owl comes.

With no Hogwarts letter.

Arabella's stomach sinks, but she tries to lift herself up — it'll come tomorrow.

...

Arabella wakes up on the day after her eleventh birthday and races downstairs. This time, the owl came before she reached downstairs.

There's still no Hogwarts letter.

Oh.

Maybe tomorrow...?


	43. the great albus dumbledore

_223 words, by gdocs_

* * *

Phineas was rushing. He couldn't help it; he had somewhere to go. And he wasn't looking where he was going and then he crashed into the exact person he didn't want to see - Albus Dumbledore.

It's not that Albus Dumbledore was a bad person; Albus Dumbledore was a great person! He was just fantastic! Which is why Phineas didn't want to see him.

Lately, Albus had been giving speeches around Hogwarts. It was probably the most controversial thing he'd ever done in his whole career as a Hogwarts student -

He was trying to convince people that Muggles should have rights.

Phineas was part of the powerful pureblood house of Black. He didn't give Muggle rights; they were below him, they were the scum of the earth.

And yet...

Albus' speeches - he couldn't help but hear some of them. There was no way to get away from hearing people talk about them and he eventually just went to one himself, even though his father, the freaking headmaster of Hogwarts, would kill him if he found out he was listening to a Muggle-lover.

And Albus was convincing. That was the truth. Albus was convincing and Phineas was questioning his beliefs.

He could tell that Albus didn't know who he was, though, so he just apologized and left, wanting to push Albus out of his thoughts.


	44. pulled in

_auction - lagoon_

 _207 word, by gdocs_

* * *

Scorpius felt he was being brought into the lagoon.

Of course, he was literally being brought into a lagoon; Hogwarts didn't have any Lagoons. That'd be utterly ridiculous.

No, Scorpius was being pulled into the metaphorical lagoon of Albus Potter's eyes.

Which was also ridiculous, because Albus' eyes were _green_ , not blue. They didn't even look like a lagoon.

But they pulled Scorpius in. They pulled Scorpius in _so deep_. He feels like his body is sinking, lower and lower. He's going crazy.

Because Albus is a _Potter_. He can't like Albus. Of course, it's not as if he likes Albus like that! He just likes being pulled into his eyes and caught by them, hook, line, and sinker. He really likes Albus' eyes.

They're a nice emerald shade — no, jade — no, not jade _or_ emerald… something else. Scorpius isn't an expert on green jewels; he doesn't know.

They're pretty. That's the bottom line.

Albus' eyes are so freaking pretty and they draw Scorpius in and sink him and capture him as if he's falling into a deep, deep, deep lagoon.

God.

Maybe he does love Albus. His eyes aren't the only thing that's cute on him; his hair is amazing…

Oh.

(Don't tell Albus)


	45. the explosion

_224 word, by gdocs_

* * *

James waited for the explosion. It's not like he thought that Lily would _explode_ at him, it's just that he screwed up. All he wanted to do was to impress Lily for once, instead of her impressing him, and utterly _screwed up._ He screwed up so badly and now Lily was going to shout at him until his ears fell off.

He loved Lily with all his heart, but she really had a problem with screaming at him.

He just needed to get this over with. There was no time to clean up the mess he made, so he just sat down at their table and braced himself for Lily to come downstairs and see his failure.

He could hear her footsteps. She was coming closer, closer…

"What the _hell_?"

Snapping his eyes up at her scream, James could see a pregnant Lily standing in the middle of their kitchen. Which was also an utter mess because turns out James has no idea how to cook a Muggle breakfast.

"Happy birthday," he says weakly. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, I'm surprised," she says, narrowing her eyes at him. "What is this?"

"I wanted to impress you with a Muggle breakfast," James explained. "I failed."

Lily closed her eyes for a count of three and said, opening them, "Let's just eat out."


	46. pretty mess

_324_

* * *

Lavender's nail polish is splattered on the ground, covering her once perfect carpet. It's a mess.

Taking a deep breath, Lavender turns away from the mess and calls, "Parvati! We've got a problem!"

Within moments, Parvati is by Lavender's side and is taking in the damage. Within the mess, their daughter is sitting there, looking overjoyed about the pink polish covering her brown skin.

"Someone's been naughty," Lavender says, sticking a hand on her hip.

"Ria," Parvati says slowly, sounding tired. Their daughter is only just over a year old, but she's been exhausting for the entire time they've had her.

Ria claps her hands together, spraying pink.

"Pretty!" she shrieks, letting out a little laugh.

"She wanted to be like her mummy," Parvati says, smiling at Ria and poking Lavender in the cheek. Lavender grins.

"I hope you're talking about yourself. I would _never_ use that shade of pink on my nails," she says. She walks forward and scoops their daughter up in her arms while Parvati lets out a sigh. Ria laughs again, touching Lavender's shoulders and getting nail polish onto her shit. No bother; Lavender will clean it off with a quick spell later. She's become accustomed to having to clean messes off of her shirts. It's almost second nature by now.

Lavender extends Ria, offering her to Parvati. Parvati backs up quickly, scrunching her nose at their messy daughter.

" _No_ ," she says sharply and Lavender laughs at her wife's neatness; she never got used to the mess that comes with a baby. Lavender doesn't think Parvati ever will, but Parvati insists that she'll be fine eventually.

"Well, she needs a bath," Lavender says, grinning.

"I nominate you to give her one," Parvati tells her, "as it's _your_ nail polish she got into."

Lavender winks and leans over to give Parvati a kiss on the lips. When Lavender pulls away, Ria's pink hands are on Parvati's shirt.

Ria laughs along with them.


	47. the knives

_serial killer au_

 _311_

* * *

The knives feel _right_.

At first they're just something to make her feel safer. After the war…

Well, after the war, Ginny isn't sure who she could trust. She knows that she can be destroyed in a single moment, her life taken away from someone who she doesn't even know. The knives make her feel safer. The knives make her be able to sleep at night. She knows that if someone wakes her up with a knife to her throat, she can have one against _their_ throat in a flash.

Of course, she's right.

It happens to her, someone leering over her in her sleep. She knows that there are many from the other side of the war and she also knows that they all want her dead — she was a very valuable asset in making sure her side won.

She pulls her knives out though, driving them into the gut of her almost-killer.

Ginny expects the blood to feel _wrong_ , for her body to be disgusted at killing a man, but honestly…

It feels good. She feels powerful. She feels safe, protected.

She almost wishes he was still alive so that he can spread the word: Ginny Weasley is not a force to be reckoned with.

But she lets the assassins keep on coming.

Really, maybe it's for the better that they don't get the hint that they cannot _kill Ginny Weasley_ and they keep on sending more men to kill her. With each person she kills, with each knife she drives into a gut, she feels stronger.

Her brother died in the war. She doesn't know if any of the people she kills were responsible for her brother's death, but she relishes in the fact that maybe, _maybe_ , she's avenging Fred's death. He deserves that.

Ginny keeps the knives close by at all times.

They just feel _right_.


	48. clicking into place

_339_

* * *

Severus' hands grip the side of his iron cauldron tightly. He knows that his entire Hogwarts' potion career might ride on this one potion, so why can't he _concentrate?_

Potions has never been Severus' strongest subject, but he loves it. He just needs to bring up his grade and he'll be able to continue into NEWT level. It should be easy, in theory — Slughorn _wants_ him to do well. He's giving Severus the chance for extra credit if he just makes this once potion.

 _Except Severus seems incapable of actually making the potion_.

Shaking his head, Severus reads the line of instructions again. He just needs to dice up his clover roots and put them in the cauldron and stir.

Except _why_? It doesn't make any sense that he should dice them. The point of putting them in is so the mixture can suck them of their moisture and use it for its own needs, right?

Shaking his head once again, Severus grips his iron cauldron again.

Slicing them should work better, in theory, but that goes against the instructions. What if he tries it explodes in his face? He'll never be able to move onto NEWT level, no matter how much he enjoys the potions class.

Why does he have to love something that he's utterly awful at? Why can't he love charms like he loves potions? He's doing _amazing_ in that.

On the other hand, what if it _works_? What if he slices them instead of dices them and the potion works so much better?

Slughorn will _love_ him. He'll probably get even more extra credit and be able have a higher chance of getting into NEWT level. That'd be amazing.

Severus isn't a Gryffindor. He doesn't _take chances_. Severus is a Slytherin. He goes by the rules of the book.

Except Severus is a _Slytherin_. If he takes this chance, it could let him climb higher up. That's ambition, right?

Letting go of his cauldron, Severus grabs his knife.

He needs to take this chance.


	49. the hot dog allergy

_crack!fic_

 _339_

* * *

The day has come. Draco has been preparing for this day for _weeks_ and now it's finally here. There's an excitement buzzing in his stomach as hug lugs his bag closer. He can almost see the rocket now. The rocket to Mars.

To _Pigfarts_.

He's finally going. Draco can't be more exciting than he already is.

As he approaches with his suitcase, Draco can see that a small figure is standing at the entrance of the rocket, telling people which way to go. On closer inspection, Draco can a hat. He knows that it's not just _any_ hat — it must be Pigfarts' famous Sorting Hat! Draco has wanted to see it since he was young.

He can barely stop from bouncing on his feet as the line moves, directed by the Sorting Hat. Soon enough, Draco is at the entrance of the rocket, right in front of the Sorting Hat.

"Give me your bag," the Sorting Hat instructs Draco. Once Draco gives a confused look — the Sorting Hat doesn't have any hands! — the Sorting Hat sighs and adds, "Just place it on the ground next to me."

Draco follows the instructions given to him and places down his bag, waiting. It's not like Draco packed anything _dangerous_. Just some clothes, his school materials — oh, and a snack, of course.

"You can't come aboard," the Sorting Hat says with a 'hpmh'.

"What?" Draco asks, feeling slightly enraged. He has been waiting for this moment for _years_.

"You have hot dogs in your bag. Hot dogs aren't allowed on the rocket," the Sorting Hat explains.

"What do you mean you don't allow hot dogs on the rocket?" Draco asks. Of _course_ he packed hot dogs; they're his favorite food! And now he can't even bring them?

"Rumbleroar is allergic. We can't have them," the Sorting Hat explains. Draco's heart sinks. "You won't be allowed on until you dispose of them."

Well, Draco figures that there's only thing to do. He pulls open his back and starts eating.


	50. snow

_349_

* * *

Theo can't stop tapping his foot. It's exactly eight o'clock and Blaise _isn't here yet_. They set their date for eight and Blaise isn't here now. Maybe Blaise will never show up. Merlin, that would just _tear_ Theo up inside. He's been waiting for a date with Blaise for ages. Now that he finally got the courage to actually ask him out, Blaise is going to stand him up?

Okay, maybe he's overreacting. There's a whole sixty seconds in one minute, which means it's going to be eight o'clock for a whole sixty seconds and Blaise has time to show up.

Checking the cock again, Theo can see that it's now eight-o-one. Yup, he's being stood up. Blaise probably only said yes so that he can laugh at Theo's gullibleness. Why would someone like Blaise ever like Theo?

Theo peeks out of the window, looking at the snow falling down hard. Maybe Blaise is _dead_. Maybe Blaise collapsed under a pile of snow and froze to death. Theo would feel really bad if that was the case.

But it's probably not, right? _Right?_

Eight-o-two, and _still_ no sign of Blaise.

He's probably not dead. Blaise is smart than that. He would just _die_.

Nope. Blaise definitely just hates Theo and is never showing up. Theo's going to be alone forever.

Theo lays down on his couch as the clock turns to eight-o-three. He's going to become a crazy cat man and never marry because he only loves _Blaise_ and Blaise _doesn't love him_.

Eight-o-four. Theo should probably just give up and go to bed, right? Blaise will never come. Still Theo peeks out the window. Maybe…

Nope. No one. He's going to die alone and Blaise hates him.

Eight-o-five.

The doorbell rings and Theo's at his feet right away, wrenching open the door. Blaise is standing there in all his glory, clutching a scarf.

"I brought you a scarf because I know you don't have one and it's _freezing_ ," Blaise says in lieu of a greeting. Theo takes it from him and smiles.

Maybe he won't die alone after all.


End file.
